


We Rise, and We Fall

by stardustedknuckles



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff, Light Angst, Massage, as a treat, the author can have a little massaging, vague references to episode 118, what better way to lose a point of exhaustion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 10:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27968783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustedknuckles/pseuds/stardustedknuckles
Summary: Yasha's the only one of them without a point of exhaustion, and she knows how to wring the last one out of Beau - if she can be still and let her.Homebrew Advent Prompt Day 8: Stained glass
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 13
Kudos: 229





	We Rise, and We Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from gillytweed during last ep: what if the cats can't massage Beau hard enough so Yasha does it?
> 
> As with most prompts, it changed a little but it's very much the engine here.

The only way Beau knew this was real, that Yasha was really here and massaging her shoulders, was that if it were a dream, it wouldn't _hurt so fucking much._

She winced a little and tried not to pull away as Yasha's fingers probed above her shoulder blade, but she was helpless to stop the shudder that fell out of her when those large fingers curled over the spot where her neck and shoulder met and pressed down gently to hold her still.

"Okay?" Yasha's voice was soft in a way that belied her grip on Beau, and her questing fingers were lighter for a moment until Beau nodded weakly.

"Fuck me up," she managed. She heard Yasha's quiet huff of amusement and did her best to relax, but honestly between the exhaustion and the circumstances, she couldn't really find a whole lot of reason to blame herself for the difficulty.

The exhaustion was leftover from the storm. That part was easy.

The circumstance, though…it still seemed a little unreal. Caleb had noticed the stiffness in Beau's shoulders at dinner and remarked on it, mostly to hype up his cat servants. And that was a nice thought, she supposed, but a little weird to consider spectral cats with tiny paws pressing all her buttons.

Honestly, Dagen's enthusiastic approval had made her feel a little better, but then Yasha had looked Beau in the eye from two seats down, her hands folded thoughtfully under her chin, and she'd just said, "let me?"

And fuck Caleb's knowing smile straight to the nine hells, because what the fuck was Beau gonna say, _no?_

So now she was here in Yasha's room, facedown on the mat where Yasha slept, and Yasha herself was sitting astride Beau's hips as her fingers sought to find every knot Beau had ever accumulated over twenty-plus years of bullshit and rub them out.

And it didn't feel bad, necessarily, but there were a hell of a lot of knots - and frankly, a few of them had Yasha's name on them.

"I can't be certain," said Yasha in a voice that Beau was fairly sure implied the exact opposite, "but I think this works better if you relax."

Beau huffed against the mat and rolled her shoulders as best she could, settling again. "If I had a copper for every time I've heard that, I could pay the right person enough to explain to me how to fucking do that."

Yasha paused kneading, opting instead to trace her fingers down Beau's spine with hardly any pressure at all. "What usually helps?" she asked.

Beau sighed. "I'm not really sure. Kind of lacking on the self-care recently. Everything's just nonstop stress and high stakes."

Yasha _hmmed_ quietly, curling her fingertips so that her rough callouses and blunt nails scratched gently up and down Beau's spine. "I might be able to offer some suggestions."

Beau lifted herself up on one elbow to turn her head. "I've heard that come-on. Hell, I've _made_ that come-on." Yasha's mouth quirked and she reached down to push Beau easily back flat against the ground.

Which - hot, but not a train of thought Beau felt it was best to entertain right now, not yet.

"Give it time and you'll hear it again, but that's not what I'm suggesting tonight." Both of Yasha's hands were running across Beau's skin now, and this time they reached up past her shoulders, over her tattoo, and rested gently on the tie holding her hair up. "Will you let me take this down for you, for starters?"

It seemed improbable that it could help, but if it meant Yasha would keep touching her, Beau wasn't going to complain. "Go for it."

She remembered a second too late why that was a bad idea, as Yasha slid the topmost tie free and snagged it on the reason itself.

"You've got something…?"

Beau pressed her forehead into the ground and didn't bother trying to stop Yasha as she worked the tiny piece of glass free from Beau's hair and, presumably, stared at it. "Beau?" Her voice was a little strange. "Why do you have purple glass in your hair?"

Beau made no move to turn her head or look up. "It was in my clothes. After the chantry. It fell out when I was getting ready for a bath, and…" _and it's the same color as your eye and I'm a moron_ , she thought.

But she reeled that in and just said, "I kept it."

Yasha shifted slightly, the silence unreadable.

"I'm sorry," Beau added when it got to be too much. "I honestly never thought there'd be a time where you'd see it. It's a good luck charm, I guess. In a way."

Another beat of silence. "It's…pretty," Yasha finally said.

Beau lifted her head a little in surprise. "Really? I mean, I thought it was, but. You too?"

Yasha nodded at her open palm, frowning slightly. "It is." She looked at Beau. "I like mine better though."

Beau blinked. "Your…you have one too?"

Yasha was already reaching into a small pocket sewn on the outside of the pouch at her waist, a tiny one Beau had never noticed. Yasha's thumb and finger slid inside and coaxed out a jagged, thin piece of glass that looked similar to Beau's - except that this one was a vivid, vibrant blue. She looked oddly shy as she held it out for Beau to examine, and Beau took the excuse to stare and keep her face neutral for a long moment as she took in its gleam, ran a finger along its edge.

"You don't believe in luck," she said finally.

Yasha's smile when she turned to look up at her was tinged with a familiar kind of sadness. "Neither do you, but here we are." 

And that was almost too much for Beau to process, so she flushed and looked away as she held the shard back out to Yasha. "Fucking glass gets stuck everywhere, huh."

Yasha took the glass and leaned forward, bracing her hand between Beau's shoulders to lay Beau's purple glass next to her head before returning to Beau's hair. "Mine wasn't an accident," she said softly. "I picked it up on purpose, when it was over."

Beau's hair came free of its last tie. It loosened and fell to tug at her scalp while Yasha gently lifted the diadem from Beau's head and set it to the side. Beau took a deep breath, letting the baked-in smell of Yasha's mat wash over her. "Why?"

Yasha's fingers spread through her hair, and Beau spent a disorienting second wondering if she could pass out from how good it felt when they rested on her scalp and began to knead very gently. She almost didn't catch Yasha's reply when it came. "I didn't know if you all would let me stay," she said quietly. "It would have been a reminder, I suppose."

Beau heart did a complicated number for a beat. "Of the nein?"

"Them," Yasha agreed, "but the blue was for you."

The surface of the mat was cool under Beau's cheek when she turned her head to lay on it, and something uncoiled inside of her that felt deeper than muscle. "Oh," she said softly.

Yasha eased up on the small circles she was rubbing on Beau's scalp, and her voice was firm but uncertain. "Too much?"

She wasn't asking about the massage. "No," Beau replied. "No, it's…good." She hesitated. "Don't stop?" It was as close to a response to Yasha's letter as she felt capable of giving, and she hoped desperately that Yasha could hear the layers under her question - layers that went nearly as deep as the knots in her shoulders.

She wouldn't have described Yasha's knees on either side of her hips as tight, but now she felt them relax around her as Yasha's fingers in her hair resumed pressing deeply against her scalp. This time she didn't try to stop the soft moan that fell out of her, and she could hear Yasha's shy smile. "Okay."

When her fingers drifted back down to press again into Beau's muscles, the sensation was nothing like it had been just a few minutes ago. Instead of the stale, frayed feeling of old knots and rubbery sinew, the focused pressure seemed to push a wave of well-being through Beau's entire body. She gasped softly and curled in on reflex, but now that Yasha had found her way under the tension she was able to coax Beau back into a puddle almost immediately. Beau felt boneless, weightless - and a little bit like crying, though she managed at least to avoid that much.

She drifted this way for a number of minutes she didn't even bother trying to account for, until Yasha's voice brought her closer to something resembling consciousness. "I think I found the secret," she remarked, and even in her hazy state Beau heard the smile.

"Do tell." She'd been going for swagger, but her voice sounded fuzzy and indistinct even to her.

She shivered when Yasha's fingers pressed at her ribs, stopping just shy of her breasts where they pressed against the mat. "I think I'll hold onto it for a while longer," Yasha said. "Ask me again when it's your turn."

Beau felt like maybe a future version of her was being propositioned. She also felt like maybe she didn't care right now. "Sure," she mumbled. Then, "fuck, I'm gonna fall asleep." She pushed her weight up reluctantly and Yasha paused but made no move to get up.

"You can," she said hesitantly. "I don't mind."

Beau considered it, falling asleep here on this mat under Yasha's touch. Then just to give the option a fighting chance, she considered getting up, putting her shirt on, staggering to her room like she was drunk…

Honestly, it really didn't seem worth the trouble.

She turned to look at Yasha, took a single second to try and imagine how thoroughly debauched she must look - if it was half as much as she felt, it was still a lot. "Sure?"

Yasha looked down between her hands at the base of Beau's spine and followed its length all the way back up to her face, her expression soft and intense in a way Beau was too far gone to begin to name. "I'm sure."

Beau's eyelids were already drooping, and when Yasha reached to touch her cheek they closed entirely. "Okay," she breathed. "Since you asked."

She definitely wasn't imagining the huff of amusement that came when she slumped back to the floor, already starting to float out on the tide of sleep. She had the strange persistent feeling she would wake up tomorrow feeling better than she had in a long while, and the even stranger feeling that she wouldn't be able to find it within her to regret any of this.

"Goodnight, Beau," she heard, and then Yasha's hands were back between her shoulder blades and she was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Not a Hamilton lyric lol, it's from the song that plays in the trailer for the video game "The Lost Ember." It's called "Come Back Home" by Maisy Kay.


End file.
